Which came first?
Which came first--the chicken or the egg?
Personally I think it was the chicken. There are lots of miscon- ceptions about eggs.
To begin with, my Mother rented a huge barn for a couple of years.
She installed a large flock of Rhode Island Red hens and several handsome roosters. The eggs we collected from the nests, while trying to avoid the protective roosters' advances, were taken to the cellar of our house. Mother had a lamp and platform device she had assembled on which she placed the eggs, one at a time, and was able to see inside the shells to the interior content of the egg. Most of the eggs were placed in enormous boxes lined with cardboard "egg cups". Some were set aside for the family to eat. I was too young to
understand what exactly Mother was seeing in those eggs which were selected. But I knew the chosen ones were sold to a hatchery-which meant they were fertile.
I never realized that many people think hens do not lay eggs unless there is a rooster present, until one day I received a letter from the editor of a children's magazine where I had submitted a short story.
She wrote back that she liked the story; however, I needed to make a few changes since I had told a story of a pet hen who lived the life of a pet and had no other hens(or roosters) nearby. She said I could not have the hen laying eggs without a rooster present! I responded---and made no changes to my story.
Time for a biology lesson.
Many years later when I had a flock of six hens--no rooster--I found they were producing more eggs than I could use. They were beautiful large brown eggs. I brought a dozen to my best friend's house.
Ginny lived across the street from me in Hebron. We liked to say we were twins, being born in the same year only a few weeks apart. We had a great deal in common and had become fast friends from our first meeting. One very different aspect of our lives though, was our childhood. I was a country girl, while Ginny was raised in New York City. That did not seem to have any impact on our relationship until the day I brought the eggs.
Ginny opened the box and said what lovely eggs and where did I get them. I told her my hens had laid them. Quickly she closed the box and shoved it back to me. "Oh I could not eat those", she informed me, "they came out of a hen's butt!" "Well don't you eat eggs?" I asked. "Of course", Ginny responded, "but I use organic eggs-ones that come out of a store".
Ginny was a very intelligent gal. This was simply an environmental
upbringing misconception.
I lost my friend two years ago. So I can tell this story now--and finally laugh out loud about it.
Personally I think it was the chicken. There are lots of miscon- ceptions about eggs.
To begin with, my Mother rented a huge barn for a couple of years.
She installed a large flock of Rhode Island Red hens and several handsome roosters. The eggs we collected from the nests, while trying to avoid the protective roosters' advances, were taken to the cellar of our house. Mother had a lamp and platform device she had assembled on which she placed the eggs, one at a time, and was able to see inside the shells to the interior content of the egg. Most of the eggs were placed in enormous boxes lined with cardboard "egg cups". Some were set aside for the family to eat. I was too young to
understand what exactly Mother was seeing in those eggs which were selected. But I knew the chosen ones were sold to a hatchery-which meant they were fertile.
I never realized that many people think hens do not lay eggs unless there is a rooster present, until one day I received a letter from the editor of a children's magazine where I had submitted a short story.
She wrote back that she liked the story; however, I needed to make a few changes since I had told a story of a pet hen who lived the life of a pet and had no other hens(or roosters) nearby. She said I could not have the hen laying eggs without a rooster present! I responded---and made no changes to my story.
Time for a biology lesson.
Many years later when I had a flock of six hens--no rooster--I found they were producing more eggs than I could use. They were beautiful large brown eggs. I brought a dozen to my best friend's house.
Ginny lived across the street from me in Hebron. We liked to say we were twins, being born in the same year only a few weeks apart. We had a great deal in common and had become fast friends from our first meeting. One very different aspect of our lives though, was our childhood. I was a country girl, while Ginny was raised in New York City. That did not seem to have any impact on our relationship until the day I brought the eggs.
Ginny opened the box and said what lovely eggs and where did I get them. I told her my hens had laid them. Quickly she closed the box and shoved it back to me. "Oh I could not eat those", she informed me, "they came out of a hen's butt!" "Well don't you eat eggs?" I asked. "Of course", Ginny responded, "but I use organic eggs-ones that come out of a store".
Ginny was a very intelligent gal. This was simply an environmental
upbringing misconception.
I lost my friend two years ago. So I can tell this story now--and finally laugh out loud about it.
That is a priceless story. I am myself very much a city raised and bred "girl" and although I had never seen a cow up close until I was an adult I don't think I ever was confused about where eggs came from. We are very funny humans. I am reminded of the story Jon Katz told recently, maybe you read the story, about his precious granddaughter, two, and her reaction to finding the eggs in the hen house. She warned him that he could absolutely NOT eat these eggs because it would make the chickens sad. Thank you for your wonderful stories. Those of us raised in the city were certainly exposed to experiences of great value not likely to be experienced by country folk but we were not exposed to so many wonders of the natural world that I do believe we came up short. I have lived away from the city for 35 years now and although I don't live on a ranch or a farm I am very close to all of that and wouldn't move back to the city for all the tea in China.
ReplyDeleteI would like to hear some of your city stories from your youth some time Wendy.
DeleteI did live in Stamford. Conn. for a year, but did not get the "city" experience there.
To answer you briefly, Cynthia, I would say exposure to diversity and appreciation for the contribution of many different cultures and their varying approaches to the human experience. It can be enriching and at the same time city dwellers, especially big city dweller, I grew up in San Francisco, are reminded daily that the human condition can be tragic and troubling. If exposure to that reality is tempered with compassionate input from adults I believe children grow up with a depth that is invaluable. That was my particular experience and I wouldn't trade that for anything but it isn't true for many.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Obviously you came from a family whose eyes, minds and hearts were open to all around them. It would appear you and I both were very fortunate to have had the parents that we did.
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